


What the Hand (Rainforest)

by kettish



Series: Biomes [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Intercrural Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 21:22:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12093702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kettish/pseuds/kettish
Summary: Qui-Gon isn't very secure in his new relationship. Fourth in the Biome Series.





	What the Hand (Rainforest)

**Author's Note:**

> With deepest thanks to sanerontheinside, skywalker_fen, and Michelle for their throughtful, considered beta work. You all helped make this story better!
> 
> Title taken from William Blake's poem, The Tyger:
> 
> Tyger Tyger, burning bright,  
> In the forests of the night;  
> What immortal hand or eye,  
> Could frame thy fearful symmetry? 
> 
> In what distant deeps or skies.  
> Burnt the fire of thine eyes?  
> On what wings dare he aspire?  
> What the hand, dare seize the fire?

The shuttle rocked as it descended into the atmosphere towards Oplao and Jedi Jinn’s and Kenobi’s newest mission. The two leaders of the colonists from Nobos sat behind Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, who piloted the tiny craft down. Had the vessel been larger, the turbulence would have been less noticeable, but the colonists could barely afford the one they owned. Considering the size of the conflict the colonists were fleeing, Obi-Wan was frankly impressed they even had this.

 

There were more colonists and refugees in the galaxy than empty habitable planets, and sometimes mistakes happened; in this case, the refugees had attempted to set up a home on the planet previously named DSC-2301. They didn’t know the planet’s name was actually Oplao, and were doubly unaware that a race on the burgeoning edge of space travel already occupied the planet. Shots were fired at the colonists’ shuttle when it entered the atmosphere, and the colonists retreated. Unable to land, and without enough fuel to reach the next habitable star system, they had tried contacting the Oplaoans but were unable to communicate. They petitioned the Senate for mediation, and the Senate granted it in the form of Jedi. 

 

The Jedi were particularly good at first contact situations, it so happened. In galactic history, many mistakes had been made right off the bat with emerging civilizations because of misunderstandings between cultures. Since Jedi were capable of feeling the truth of a statement, as well as how important concepts or places, they could help avoid instances when indigenous peoples’ words were sometimes misconstrued or ignored. 

 

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were here to facilitate an agreement between the Oplaoans and the colonists if possible, and if not, they would report back to the Order and aid would be sent to the colonists. Qui-Gon had said with his usual serenely confident tone of voice that he was certain they could work something out--Oplao was not crowded, and had plentiful resources. Barring intense xenophobia or biological constraints, it would be fine.

 

Behind him, Captain Irali Getnor shifted in her seat anxiously. 

 

“We’ll be through in just a few minutes now, Captain,” Obi-Wan reassured her. She didn’t reply, instead closing her pale blue eyes and leaning back against the shuttle seat. Obi-Wan spared the concentration to scan her briefly and discovered she just had a touch of airsickness; once they leveled out it would be better.

 

Since he was checking on her, he decided to touch on the other leader as well--First Mate Kep Horson, a man with light Nobosian features and a wicked sense of humor. Obi-Wan got along with him like a house on fire and unabashedly enjoyed it; it wasn’t often their missions included cheerful, well-humored individuals. 

 

First Mate Horson was fine, not a bit of airsickness to be found. Satisfied, Obi-Wan returned his full attention to the controls and continued piloting them in.   
  


Their reception stood by a primitive landing strip, a group of furred humanoids in scant garments that they could see from the top of the boarding ramp. Obi-Wan thought that prudent; between their moss-green fur and the humid heat of the jungle planet, clothing would be uncomfortably warm. He noted the garments they did wear were gracefully streaked with light plates of bright metal, in curves and swoops meant to draw the eye with artistic design. 

 

One of them stepped forward and bowed, arms folding up so their fingertips touched their shoulders in a deferential gesture. The humanoid began to speak, droning speech punctuated with the short indrawn gasps and careful sighs that characterized their language and had earned them the nickname “Wheezers” from irreverent colonists.

 

“Welcome, honored ambassadors!” the translation devices said, sitting comfortably in the shell of the humans’ ears. “We are pleased to meet with you formally to discuss visitors to our planet.” Qui-Gon reached carefully into his tunic and withdrew several more of the devices, already on and ready, and offered them in an open palm to the speaker. After they were accepted, he pulled his hair back behind his ear to demonstrate how it was placed, and showed that Obi-Wan also wore one. 

 

The Oplaoans gathered closely to discuss amongst themselves before one stood straight and snatched up a device, then firmly placed the device on the side of their head. They turned back to Qui-Gon and showed that it was in place then spoke.

 

“We do not have the appendages you hang yours on,” they said, and Obi-Wan started before moving forward hurriedly. “But we honor your custo--”

 

“Here, there’s a clip, it may pull a bit, but--” he cut her off as he apologized and took it to show them how it could be affixed to their fur. 

 

“I can understand you!” the Oplaoan yelped. It was more drawn-out than a human expression, but the feeling of it in the Force was the same: surprise. “Stars and trees, how--!”

 

“It is a translation device,” Obi-Wan replied with a smile. He felt amazement and intense curiosity and excitement from the Oplaoan as well and it boded well for their negotiations. “A gift of gratitude for listening to our petition. Thank you.” He bowed deeply and returned to Qui-Gon’s side.

 

The rest of the Oplaoan delegation was speaking excitedly, the air punctuated with exhalations as they each equipped themselves with the new devices, and soon they were able to speak freely.

 

“This is a gracious gift,” the original speaker said with a wide smile. Their faces were round, and the expression seemed to split it across the middle as their oblong eyes squinched up charmingly. “We apologize for the hostility of our first contact with your kind. We did not know what was happening, only that we were beset by intruders with highly advanced technology. Perhaps once we can make an informed decision we may welcome you into our world.”

 

“Please, show us your world, and we will learn from each other and decide what is best for your people,” Qui-Gon replied gravely, and that seemed to satisfy the other Oplaoans. “I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. We are impartial negotiators sent by the Galactic Senate to help facilitate discussion between you and the Nobosian colonists. These are their leaders: may I present Captain Irali Getnor and First Mate Kep Horson, late of Nobos, fleeing conflict with their people.”

 

“We would like to apologize for the incident during our initial contact,” Captain Getnor said as she and First Mate Horson bowed respectfully, “our star maps showed this planet to be uninhabited but with the minimal amount of the resources we would need to survive. We had absolutely no intent of frightening or harming your people, and would never have landed without permission had we known.”

 

“You can cross solar systems but you can’t check for advanced civilizations?” one of the Oplaoans said from the side of their group. The being seemed older to Obi-Wan’s eyes, the green in their fur more touched with grey and lines around their eyes and flat, dark, nose. Tones didn’t always translate well over the devices they used, but Obi-Wan could guess this was meant rather acerbically. Captain Getnor’s Force presence flashed with annoyance for a moment before she visibly calmed herself and bowed her head in the Oplaoan’s direction.

 

“Our ships were damaged in our flight,” she said, “but to be fair, we might not have picked you up on scans. Your world’s dense vegetation would probably keep us from detecting anything of use. Regardless, we meant no harm, and these representatives are here to ensure we do no more.”

 

_ Nicely done, _ Qui-Gon murmured in Obi-Wan’s head. Obi-Wan tipped his head forward slightly in acknowledgement. There was an awkward silence, and then the Oplaoan who Obi-Wan had assisted with their device spoke up.

 

“Well. I am Representative Nych of this district, and here are Representative Sheesh, President Corysh, and Elder of the Council Gardem. Let’s proceed to the meeting space where we may discuss this further, shall we?” they said brightly, and held out a hand with thick, tough fingers that didn’t seem to bend as far as many humanoids. 

 

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan bowed once more and followed the direction she’d indicated with colony leaders and the rest of the Oplaoans.

 

They loaded into a vehicle and then followed a public transit route into the city. Obi-Wan observed they didn’t seem to use private transports much, if at all; most of the other vehicles on the road had at least ten Oplaoans inside. They seemed a social people, passengers hanging an arm over each other’s shoulders companionably as they rode. The politicians they were with must have tamped down on that inclination and instead settled for simply sitting closely to one another.

 

Lush vegetation enveloped the city and seemed to be as deeply a part of it as the artificial construction. Their buildings tended towards sharp, clean lines that contrasted with the wild plant life. Broad-leaved trees grew up over the city, shading its avenues and streets, and almost immediately after they entered city limits darkness fell over the vehicle. It was only marginally cooler in the shade, and Obi-Wan counted tiny jewel-colored flowers that grew attached to the sides of trees and buildings alike. Creeping vines wound their way wherever they liked, leaving only the most well-trod paths clear, and occasionally a very thick vine cause the vehicle to jump a bit as it went over.

 

Qui-Gon and Captain Getnor made small talk with the Oplaoans as they traveled, complimenting them on the diversity of plant life they could see and the world’s obvious beauty. Qui-Gon was especially effusive, and Obi-Wan thought fondly that it must be paradise for his love, who found ease in the Force generated by happily growing plant life.

 

“Indeed, many of our scientists have observed outside civilizations for years,” Representative Nych was saying when Obi-Wan turned his attention back to the conversation. “Perhaps that’s why we expected a little more...warning, before meeting extraterrestrials.”

 

“First contact situations are always delicate,” Qui-Gon said. He stroked his beard and gave her an apologetic look. “They are usually left to designated committees and diplomats who are well trained for it. It isn’t often a world such as yours is just--stumbled upon.” 

 

“It would have been better if we had stayed undiscovered,” Elder Gardem said. He was staring at Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan with distaste, black eyes hard, and then turned to glower out the window.

 

“Some of our elders believe we have no need for offworld contact, and are upset that it was forced upon us, however accidentally,” President Corysh explained in a low voice, reaching up to scratch at his chin with his stiff fingers. “It is not a majority opinion, anymore, but no good has ever come from completely dismissing the advice of those who came before. We have tried to be cautious with our space program as a compromise.”

 

“Which apparently wasn’t enough,” Gardem griped. Corysh’s and Nych’s mouths flattened and their eyelids drooped in irritation, but they said nothing.

 

“We can only move forward from where we are,” Qui-Gon said serenely, and settled back against the seat once more. It put him closer to Obi-Wan, and while Obi-Wan knew it was in deference to the local customs, it still made him feel warm in the pit of his stomach to be so close to Qui-Gon.

 

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon felt a subtle shift in the Force, a familiar oversaturation of energy in the clouds reaching far-off critical mass. The colonists jumped as lightning flashed and was immediately followed by thunder overhead, booming across the city, and a wash of rain began to fall across the roof of the transport. Elder Gardem’s emotions came across just as loudly: petty satisfaction at having made them uncomfortable, and irritation that it hadn't startled the Jedi. The rest of the ride was silent.

  
  


They disembarked to a tall tower of a building. Two thirds of the way up, a bronze-colored metal disc was pressed into the dark grey building material, spokes radiating outwards from it and wrapping around the sides of the building in what was likely a depiction of the sun. It was a beautiful work, and Obi-Wan appreciated it even more when he looked at the sides of the surrounding buildings and realized they’d been included in the motif in the forms of depictions of waterways and cities.

 

“How lovely,” Getnor breathed as she emerged. Obi-Wan handed her down politely and then did the same for First Mate Horson.

 

“Thanks!” Horson said, and Obi-Wan smiled winsomely back at him.

 

“No thanks needed, First Mate,” Obi-Wan replied, and Horson waved him off, scoffing as they entered the building and came to a short set of stairs. The railing was inset and ridged rather than an attached bar or ledge, as the Oplaoans couldn’t curl their fingers around railing.

 

“Call me Kep, please,” he insisted. Obi-Wan dipped his head to hide his grin and gave in with good grace. The Captain grinned over Obi-Wan’s shoulder at Kep and patted Obi-Wan’s back cheerfully.

 

“You’ll call me Irali, then,” she said firmly. Obi-Wan held in a sigh and nodded again, and Qui-Gon’s amusement drifted over the pair-bond to him. He sent back the mental equivalent of ‘ha, ha.’

  
  


Qui-Gon watched the colony leaders warm to his partner with amusement. It was inevitable; Obi-Wan was warm and respectful, but with just enough of a mischievous and inviting edge to his demeanor that one might suspect a more passionate man lay beneath his exterior. 

 

_ And they’d be right, _ he thought with a hint of smugness. Not that anyone else was going to see that.

 

Obi-Wan smiled warmly to the colonists and then put a hand on Captain Getnor’s lower back, gently directing her after the Oplaoans. The smugness in Qui-Gon’s mind waned, and he shook himself; this was no time to be thinking about his personal relationships.

 

They entered the building together and in short order were seated on soft, comfortable round stools at a table which had a small shelf for resting their forearms against. The room was painted in shades of creme and green, clean and welcoming. After checking that everyone’s translation devices were still working properly, they began.

 

The negotiations went slowly--frustrating considering the initial warmth Representative Nych had displayed on their arrival. Elder Gardem continued to be sullen, and the Jedi could feel that the other representatives needed his support somehow. The Jedi and colony leaders asked repeatedly about available landspace, native culture and religion, available resources, anything to try and determine if the planet was capable and willing to support the Nobosian refugees. Gardem refused and redirected, snapped and growled, and forced the other Oplaoan leaders to explain his obtuse and often insulting statements.

 

Four hours after they’d sat down, Qui-Gon could see they were getting nowhere this way, and suggested they take a recess. Without extensive testing there was no way to know if the Oplaoan food was edible for humans, and the chrono read about time for midmeal, so he suggested the four offworlders return to the shuttle for lunch before they continued.

 

“A short break to stretch and contemplate,” he advised. President Corysh nodded agreeably and showed them to a vehicle that would take them back to the shuttle. Offering cordial farewells they took their leave, vehicle rolling back out into the city that was entwined with nature.

 

The ride back out to the shuttle was just as beautiful as the ride in, and Qui-Gon leaned back against the seat with his eyes shut, basking in the generous Force energy of the native flora. Obi-Wan chatted amiably with the colonists as they exited the city. They drove through the forest, crossing an uninhabited zone towards their landing site, and Horson gifted the cheerful driver a translation device so that he could participate in the conversation. The soothing chatter of friendly voices enveloped Qui-Gon and he was halfway to napping when he felt an urgent flicker in the Force.

 

Always more apt to prescience than Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan tensed and unbuckled his safety harness, eyes unfocusing as he threw his awareness out into the Force and tried to pinpoint the origin of the feeling to no avail. Grabbing the driver’s seat, he turned to Qui-Gon to say something--

 

Concussive force erupted in front of the vehicle, and Qui-Gon was thrown hard into the harness of his seat. Getnor and Horson cried out, and then Obi-Wan was scrambling back up to check on the driver as the vehicle slammed into a tree, tossing them all forward. Obi-Wan hadn’t made it up past the edge of the seat and luckily fetched up hard against it instead of being thrown from the vehicle.

 

The driver was dead; his life was snuffed out the instant they hit the tree, and Qui-Gon was sorry for it--the Oplaoan’s death had been completely unwarranted. The doors of the vehicle had crumpled in the crash, and it was imperative they get out and away as quickly as possible. He slapped the releases on his safety harness and hauled Obi-Wan up by his tunic sleeve before igniting his ‘saber and cutting their way out of the vehicle, choosing the side towards the trees for cover. Obi-Wan helped Getnor and Horson down quickly and Qui-Gon guarded their exit from the vehicle; another large blast rocked them on their feet from a dozen meters to the left. Horson swore virulently as he reached for a holster that wasn’t there; they’d left their weapons at the shuttle in good faith.

 

A staccato burst of projectile weapons fire from beyond the other side of the vehicle matched the sharp ping-pinging of projectiles hitting it’s side. Horson swore again, with even more feeling.

 

“I quite agree,” Obi-Wan muttered, and then more loudly, “this way!” He led them to a path into the thick forest, little more than what the local fauna must have used to travel, but it was under plenty of visual cover and it moved away from the gunfire. Qui-Gon covered their rear, powering down his saber as soon as they were under the trees so that its light wouldn’t give them away.

 

They ran down the path. Obi-Wan occasionally told them “here,” or “watch that” when he encountered a troublesome root or rock on the trail as they put distance between themselves and their attackers. The feel of the Force flowing around him told Qui-Gon that Obi-Wan was running mostly by feel, attempting to locate any ambush or pitfall before his sight or hearing could tell him. It was a valuable talent to have, one that he’d had plenty of opportunity to cultivate, and Obi-Wan took point on their missions nine times out of ten because of his skill with it.

 

Qui-Gon occasionally pushed Captain Getnor forward when she faltered, urging her on as the Force urged him, and after about an hour they had to slow to a walk in deference to the her and Horson’s faltering endurance. They were reasonably fit, but they weren’t Jedi, and couldn’t be expected to run for a day or more at a steady pace. 

 

They stopped for a break, and were almost immediately set upon by a cloud of small insects. After Obi-Wan choked a third time on the tiny irritants he snarled and stripped off his outer tunic, leaving his plain white undershirt on, and tore the garment into wide strips. He passed one each out to the others and tied his own over his mouth and nose as a barrier. The remainder of his tunic would have looked ridiculous on, so he bundled it with his sash instead.

 

Qui-Gon was relieved, tying his bit of cloth over his face with gratitude, when Getnor spoke up.

 

“Thank you, Obi-Wan, Master Jinn,” she said. Her clothing stuck to her skin with sweat and humidity, and she fanned herself tiredly. “Do you think we’ve lost them?”

 

“For now,” Qui-Gon confirmed, tasting the Force as he did. “I don’t think they believed we’d try to escape into the forest.” 

 

“Try not to worry, Irali,” Obi-Wan said as he patted her back comfortingly before sitting down and beginning to turn out his pockets.

 

“You Jedi sure are handy in a fight,” she continued. “I mean, that’s what you always hear, but honestly, it’s not the same as seeing it in person.” Horson laughed along in agreement.

 

“Definitely not. The stories never mention those biceps, for one,” he teased Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan laughed, and Qui-Gon frowned when he didn’t demur, but then Obi-Wan was tallying up their supplies and seeing what they had to work with. With a sigh Qui-Gon put his irritation aside for the future in order to focus on the now. He took a moment to shore up his shields as high as he could in order to keep from distracting Obi-Wan or being distracted before turning to the matter at hand. They didn’t have much, but it was better than he’d hoped: three meal bars, a com that would work once they were within 500 meters of their atmospheric craft, one vibroblade Getnor had forgotten was in her carry bag with their datapads, and several small items such as pieces of flimsiplast and writing utensils. 

 

“Dump it all back in your bag and hand it here please,” Obi-Wan said and while they constructed a primitive backpack with Obi-Wan’s sash and Getnor’s carry bag. Qui-Gon knelt down to meditate. The currents of the Force pulled them along in the direction they were already going, and the wildlife felt active but placid in that direction as well. He opened his eyes to see Obi-Wan rummaging around in the bag and Getnor and Horson both openly ogling his rear end.

 

It surprised him, but he put his jealousy down firmly. Beings couldn’t help who they were attracted to, within reason, and Obi-Wan was very attractive. But then:

 

“This?” Obi-Wan asked, straightening and opening his hand to show a hair tie.

 

“No, sorry, the  _ other _ other one,” Captain Getnor replied, and Obi-Wan turned and--slowly bent over, his thighs and buttocks flexing enticingly, showing off.

 

“That’s it,” Horson breathed when Obi-Wan finally procured the correct item, and Qui-Gon’s mind went blank before filling with icy fury.

 

“We need to move on,” he growled, and took point. Nobody argued and they were heading deeper into the jungle once more.

 

Over the next six hours Qui-Gon slowly grew more jealous and infuriated at the blatant flirting and posturing between the other three. It was normal for others to look, but for Obi-Wan to indulge them so--! Qui-Gon couldn’t believe it. Hadn’t they talked? Hadn’t Obi-Wan confessed a desire to be with Qui-Gon always? Qui-Gon should have made sure to include “monogamy” in his list of relationship requirements, which at the time had only included “willing” and “Obi-Wan.” He firmed his emotional shielding even further, not wanting to feel Obi-Wan.

 

Rain started again, drenching them completely, and Qui-Gon was not the only one to notice his partner’s white undershirt was now translucent. As night began to fall the air cooled, and Obi-Wan’s nipples pebbled appealingly under his shirt, which clung to his muscled torso like something out of a pin-up calendar. 

 

_ Fine _ , Qui-Gon thought mutinously as Obi-Wan helped Getnor over a tree. 

 

_ Fine _ , he repeated to himself when Obi-Wan took his undershirt off to use to collect fruit early colonists had reported as edible.

 

_ Two can play that game. _ And as they reached a stream and called a halt for the night, he acted. As Obi-Wan returned from scouting the area, Qui-Gon stripped off his own outer tunic, taking care to make the movement casually attractive. Obi-Wan stopped and stared at him a moment before shaking himself and going back to looking around. Qui-Gon allowed himself one smirk before he went back to what he was doing. 

 

A nearby rock overhang was nearly completely shielded by all manner of vines and fern-like plants, had a stream running nearby, and was blessedly dry inside. That was the deciding factor--they chose to set up camp there and continue on in the morning.

 

Qui-Gon’s tunic was ripped apart and a large piece was folded over itself several times, and then used to try and filter some of the detritus from the stream water. Qui-Gon stretched his shoulders and arms, aware that a lifetime of swordsmanship had gifted him reasonably attractive musculature, and then solicitously made sure the colony leaders were well.

 

Obi-Wan returned to camp with a medium-sized animal slung over one shoulder, hefting it like something out of a fantasy holonovel. They cut it apart with the vibroblade and roasted it over a small, smokeless fire, started with the bits of flimsiplast and fed with debris they dug into the loam to procure. With the fruit they’d gathered earlier it wasn’t a terrible meal. Qui-Gon praised Horson’s roasting capabilities, and later licked the grease and fruit juice from his fingers with a look of supreme indifference on his face as both Getnor and Horson watched avidly. Obi-Wan watched him do it, looking first stunned, then shocked comprehension, and finally with a downright thunderous expression. But then Obi-Wan reclaimed the mild mask he usually wore and asked who would take first watch.

 

None of them were tired, truly, but it was decided that they would try and sleep anyway in shifts of two at a time. Getnor and Horson insisted on taking first watch, saying the Jedi had been doing most of the work all day, and Qui-Gon was too worn down from simmering over Obi-Wan’s behavior to argue.

 

He and Obi-Wan retreated to the overhang, stepping through the opening in the foliage. Qui-Gon went straight to a rather sad patch of moss which must not have received quite enough moisture to thrive but struggled along regardless. Bundling up what remained of his outer tunic, he laid down on his back, hands folded over his stomach as he watched Obi-Wan from the corner of his eye.

 

Obi-Wan looked stymied by Qui-Gon’s obvious lack of invitation to join him, but merely narrowed his eyes and he said nothing. He shook out his undershirt with a few loud snaps and pulled it back on, readying for sleep.

 

“Oh, are you getting chilly?” Qui-Gon sneered before he could stop himself, and the tension between them ignited.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you!” Obi-Wan exploded. Qui-Gon sniffed, turning away from Obi-Wan and wedging his makeshift pillow further under his head, ashamed at his own lack of control but unable to let go of his bitterness. Obi-Wan glared at the back of his head and stepped closer.

 

“You’ve been off all day, even before this all went to hell,” Obi-Wan said. “I thought you meant to distract the colonists, or reassure them of their safety, but then you started acting like a--a--”

 

“Like what?” Qui-Gon asked, voice dangerously low as he lay  perfectly still on the ground. In his apprenticeship Obi-Wan would have taken this as the time to retreat and regroup. Now, he did no such thing, blasting past the warning signs.

 

“Like a fucking idiot,” Obi-Wan bit out. Qui-Gon shot up to a sitting position.

 

“I’m not the one wandering around in a wet shirt, bending over so people can ogle my ass, performing for them--! Or do you think that’s how a Jedi ought to represent themselves and the Order?” he demanded.

 

“What the fuck are you talking about!” Obi-Wan snarled.

 

“You just bent over when they asked you to and took your damn time about it! It was quite a show!” Qui-Gon thundered.

 

“I cracked a rib, you ass!” Obi-Wan shouted, and Qui-Gon’s head snapped back with shock as though he’d been slapped. Obi-Wan panted shallowly, trying to get his breathing to calm down so his side would stop aching so abominably. As he stood there, horror dawned in Qui-Gon’s eyes as his view on the day’s events shuffled.

 

“You--you weren’t flirting,” he said. He seemed to collapse back down into himself, no longer any more intimidating than usual, and he slid his hands over his face. “Obi-Wan…”

 

“We just talked about what we wanted with each other less than two weeks ago,” Obi-Wan snapped. “Force’s sake, Qui-Gon! Did you think I’d just up and leave you the first time someone expressed interest?”

 

Qui-Gon slid his hands up and into his hair, ducking his head between his legs, and that was all the confirmation Obi-Wan needed. But it left a pressing question:

 

“Why would you think I’d do that, Qui?” Obi-Wan asked plaintively. He held his side where his rib still ached, he was sticky with sweat, and now his lover and former Master thought he’d betray him at the drop of a hat. Obi-Wan was ready for this day to end. It hurt, that the man he loved could think so little of him. He didn’t understand what he could have done to make Qui-Gon think such a thing.

 

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Qui-Gon muttered miserably, and Obi-Wan’s mind went blank. The anger and frustration drained out of Obi-Wan, trickling from his shoulders and neck.

 

“You’re joking,” he said stupidly. Then he shook his head and looked to the side, brows furrowed. “No, you wouldn’t joke about that. I don’t understand. Why would anyone…”

 

“I don’t know,” Qui-Gon said. His voice was muffled from where he still sat with his arms covering his head. Qui-Gon’s body tensed, and then he pulled himself back up to sit straight. It was painful to watch him pull himself together when he was so obviously wounded; looking down at him, Obi-Wan realized that this beautiful, stoic man was hurting. He knelt down slowly in front of Qui-Gon and pulled him to hold him close with a short grunt.

 

Qui-Gon resisted at first, not wanting to hurt him further. Obi-Wan shushed him, and Qui-Gon gave in and slumped forward carefully into Obi-Wan’s chest, feeling shaky with emotion. Obi-Wan held him and petted his hair, hoping he was giving him comfort, and kissed the top of his head over and over as they held one another.

 

“They were the worst kind of person,” Obi-Wan whispered. “Stupid. I can’t see how anyone wouldn’t want you.” 

 

“You know I’m not an easy man to live with, much less love,” Qui-Gon replied from under Obi-Wan’s chin. “Today at least has proved that.”

 

“Nothing worthwhile is ever easy,” Obi-Wan said, to make Qui-Gon laugh and because it was true. It worked; a miserable guffaw shook him before settling into a sob, and then a short bout of silent tears. Obi-Wan soothed him with nonsense words, rubbing his back and kissing his head until Qui-Gon wrestled his emotions back into submission.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m just a blubbery old man,” Qui-Gon muttered, swiping at his face with a leftover scrap of his tunic sleeve. Obi-Wan watched him grumble with a fond smile. “This is why I don’t…”

 

“You didn’t date because you didn’t want to,” Obi-Wan corrected him firmly. “Now you want to, so you shall. And you aren’t old. Stop saying that.”

 

“Older than you, sprat. Now. Why didn’t you tell me you were injured?” Ah, there it was--Qui-Gon’s “Disappointed In You” face. Obi-Wan cringed; impossibly, it was even more effective with Qui-Gon’s face still damp and eyes red-rimmed. “You could’ve punctured a lung running around like that. Much less bending over to show off your ass.”

 

“I wasn’t showing off,” Obi-Wan muttered. His half-hearted argument was waved off and soon Qui-Gon had him laid out on the ground so that he could attend to the injury. Qui-Gon was relieved to sense that it was only a small crack; it would have taken quite a bit of force to complete the break. Still--if Obi-Wan didn’t know that, there was no sense in letting him off easy.

 

“They aren’t even that attractive,” Obi-Wan grumbled when Qui-Gon was done. Qui-Gon glanced at him, surprised by the non sequitur.

 

“They’re exactly your type though, aren’t they?” he asked. “Short, blonde, trim…?” Obi-Wan squirmed, focusing intently on getting his undershirt tucked in. “Obi…?”

 

“That’s not my type,” Obi-Wan mumbled. Qui-Gon watched his cheeks pink with both affection and mild vindication.

 

“That’s the only kind of person I ever saw you date. The humans, at any rate,” Qui-Gon said. He frowned, obviously trying to recall the beings he’d known Obi-Wan was dating. “And then you stopped dating humans at all, it seemed.”

 

Obi-Wan mumbled something inarticulate.

 

“What?”

 

“I was trying not to fixate on you,” he said more clearly, and oh, the flush on his face was beyond precious. Then his words sunk in and Qui-Gon felt as though he’d been run over by a speeder. Obi-Wan mistook the look for confusion and elaborated, “I figured short, blonde, and young was the exact opposite of tall, dark, and experienced. It didn’t work very well so I skipped humans altogether for a while. It still wasn’t...wasn’t really doing it for me, so I just stopped dating altogether after a while.”

 

“When was this?” Qui-Gon asked faintly.

 

“When I was Knighted,” Obi-Wan replied with evident confusion. “I’d always thought that if...if you returned my feelings, you might approach me then, or maybe after I’d been on solo missions for a while. You didn’t, but I didn’t particularly want anyone else, and--we’ve been so busy…” He looked beyond flustered now, flush making his freckles stand out starkly.

 

“I was never sure,” Qui-Gon said. Obi-Wan reached out tentatively through the Force, touching Qui-Gon to ask permission for a deeper read than their pair-bond allowed. Qui-Gon allowed it, welcoming him in, and sighed as Obi-Wan’s warm presence swirled close to his.

 

“You’re insecure,” Obi-Wan said. The conclusion seemed to baffle him. Qui-Gon shrugged uneasily; it was never comfortable having your foibles laid bare. “You don’t feel like I’m going to stay.”

 

“Nobody else has,” Qui-Gon offered as explanation. His words were gentle and non-accusatory, meant to mollify, but instead Obi-Wan seemed incensed. 

 

“Blind, miserable bunch of--,” he growled, breaking off into Huttese that translated roughly into “impacted anal glands of a rancor.” Qui-Gon looked taken aback for the second time that evening. “I cannot believe that anyone else has had you and just--walked away!” 

 

“Just look at you,” Obi-Wan said, looking Qui-Gon over with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “I would be an absolute fool not to see how attractive just your body is, Qui-Gon! Your beautiful eyes, your handsome face, look at this gorgeous chest sweet Force--” Obi-Wan ran his hands over each feature as he spoke, and began to rub and massage them. “--these shoulders, oh fuck, Qui, you have no idea how many wet dreams featured these shoulders. So much laundry, darling. So much.” Qui-Gon turned red and tried to shoo Obi-Wan’s hands away but was refused.

 

“No, honestly, look--these hands? They are heaven. However they touch me, they’re heaven. One day hopefully soon I want some of these inside me, it’s going to be divine.” Obi-Wan seemed to be working himself up now, enjoying his recitation, and Qui-Gon was likewise affected; it was warmer in their shelter than it had been before. “I could eat off these abs, I could do my laundry on these abs--you’ve got these amazing hip flexors. Weightlifting routines were another minefield for me after you insisted on adding hip thrusts, you have no idea.

 

“Strong thighs, strong enough to run for hours, strong enough to carry me, strong enough to chase my sorry ass around in training for ages and a day...having these thighs wrapped around me that first night in the cold was a fetish I hadn’t known I had. I know now.” 

 

Qui-Gon tried to interrupt, dizzy, to correct his use of the word ‘fetish’ and was shushed with a kiss; he gave it up as a bad job and seized Obi-Wan to reciprocate enthusiastically.

 

“I’m yours,” Qui-Gon said instead when they had to pause to breathe. Then, between kisses: “Show me, I’m yours, please.” 

 

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched, and he didn’t breathe for a moment before he sucked in a generous breath and swore vehemently.

 

“No lube,” he snarled, “I didn’t pack any, I didn’t think we’d have time, why didn’t I just pack some anyway--”

 

“It’s fine, shh, it’s alright,” Qui-Gon said, “just, it’s ok, we’ll figure something out.” He breathed in and out to let the disappointment that pooled in his chest drain. Obi-Wan watched him intently, frowning; Qui-Gon felt determination flowing steadily from him and raised his eyebrows questioningly as Obi-Wan took a deep breath in.

 

“Bend over,” Obi-Wan said firmly. “Over there, there’s a good rock.” Qui-Gon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously but he did as he was told, watching Obi-Wan warily. “Oh, for Force’s sake, Qui-Gon. I’m not a barbarian. Pants off.”

 

Qui-Gon snorted, but again did as he was told. Once done he bent over so that his ass was in the air and his generous cock and scrotum swung freely below. Obi-Wan shed his pants as well and then knelt behind him, pressing his body against as much of Qui-Gon’s as he could.

 

“I’m not going to be quiet,” Obi-Wan said into Qui-Gon’s ear before ducking down to biting his shoulder firmly. It startled an “ah!” from Qui-Gon and blood flow diverted quite suddenly to his cock; Obi-Wan smirked and then licked and sucked where he’d bitten. He leaned back, spitting into his palm, and then coated his cock in it before wiggling down to push it between Qui-Gon’s thighs.

 

“Mine,” Obi-Wan said quietly in reminder, and then groaned loudly as he thrust forward and his dick dragged over Qui-Gon’s sac. He started slowly, and Qui-Gon was shocked at the sounds that came out of him; it was nothing he hadn’t heard before, but when they were around others Obi-Wan was usually considerate enough to be quiet. What--?

 

“Oh, Force, Qui,” Obi-Wan gasped, and picked up the tempo of his thrusts so that the steady slap of skin was loud and obvious. A rush of heat surged up Qui-Gon’s body as he realized Obi-Wan was staking a claim--both his and Qui-Gon’s. 

 

“You are so perfect, Qui, you are going to look perfect on my cock. Oh, I cannot wait until we have lube and a bed, I am going to fuck you into the mattress and then you need to do the same to me--”

 

“Oh gods,” Qui-Gon moaned, and Obi-Wan’s breath skipped as Qui-Gon reached down to palm his own cock. Obi-Wan’s dick was thrusting steadily, pleasurable imitation of what they’d someday do, and Qui-Gon was delirious with it, feeling the push and pull of Obi-Wan against his skin. He stroked himself hard, racing towards finish as Obi-Wan groaned obscenities in his ear, and yet still he managed to hit his peak second. Obi-Wan stiffened first and gasped and groaned against the skin of his back, ejaculate splashing warm and wet against Qui-Gon’s thighs. Qui-Gon could not have then done anything but come undone, scattered to pieces on a rock in a rainforest by judicious application of intercrural sex.

 

Obi-Wan rolled off of him and then pulled him to the side, gentle of their bruised knees. He pulled Qui-Gon down to the soft, moss-covered ground, on top of Qui-Gon’s outer tunic, and held him close as he drowsed. 

 

Qui-Gon had never felt so secure in himself. He was safe, he was loved, he was comfortable and sated. He couldn’t imagine how much better it might be in an actual building.

 

“There,” Obi-Wan said. His eyes were half-closed, his face utterly relaxed as he settled against Qui-Gon protectively. “No mistaking who I belong to now.” 

 

“Least of all by me,” Qui-Gon agreed, and tightened his arms around his love. 

 

“No more of that,” Obi-Wan continued. “Let’s just talk next time, ok? Can still have sex if you want, though.”

 

Qui-Gon chuckled.

 

“As if I ever don’t,” he said. They cuddled until Qui-Gon felt the need to relieve himself and scrub off the semen on his skin, Obi-Wan letting him go reluctantly. It was a quick job, and Qui-Gon peeked out of the shelter at the colony leaders when he was done. They stared back from their post at a nearby tree and then looked away hurriedly, and he grinned wide as a wolf as he turned back to the overhang.

 

“Mine,” he said smugly, too quietly for the others to hear, and then they rested.

  
  


Getnor and Horson woke them later, and Qui-Gon was by then embarrassed by how they didn’t quite meet his gaze. Obi-Wan’s message had been received, it seemed. He spoke to them quietly, taking time to ask about anything of interest they might have seen on watch, and the two colonists seemed to relax when they realized there were no hard feelings.

 

After the colonists went into the shelter for the night, Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan into his lap and they sat close, sharing warmth and comfort as they waited for night to end. Dawn was gradual in the understory of the forest, a slow increase of light and birdsong and the noise of small creatures waking and scavenging for their first meals of the day, and Qui-Gon watched it all peacefully.

 

Soon it was light enough to travel without chancing injury, so they woke Getnor and Horson and prepared for the day. The remains of their meal last night had been dragged far from their camp for safety’s sake, so breakfast was only fruit, but it was enough to keep them going. 

 

There was one tense moment that day as an airborne vehicle flew close overhead, but they were all dressed in colors that camouflaged them well, and keeping still was enough to evade pursuit. Mid-afternoon they finally made it back to their shuttle, which was still functional to their vast relief. The thought that it might be moved or destroyed had occurred to them all at one point or another, but had been left unsaid.

 

It unlocked and they boarded easily, finding a message at their comm unit. 

 

“We would like to extend our deepest apologies,” President Corysh’s voice began. “A small extremist group got past our security at regional borders and attacked your vehicle in order to discourage offworld contact. The parties responsible have been apprehended and will be tried in court, though I am assured the evidence is clear. We have search and rescue parties combing the forest as I speak, and will be monitoring your shuttle for your return. We humbly request you return to complete our talks, but will not force you or approach your shuttle until we receive clearance from you.”

 

“Please respond before take-off should you decide to leave the planet, so we know your vehicle has not been stolen. Again, our deepest apologies, and we will do our best to make this up to you if you will allow it. Thank you.” The recording cut off, and the Jedi and colony leaders looked at each other for a long moment as they pondered.

 

“This world is beautiful, and I’d love the chance to settle here, but I don’t want to get shot at again,” Getnor finally said, arms folded and staring at the floor. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan nodded in understanding.

 

“I’d feel better if we could carry arms this time,” Horson added. Getnor frowned, still staring down, and her head tilted minimally to one side.

 

“No,” she finally said, “let’s try this a different way. Can we see if they’d be willing to meet us here, instead?”

 

“We can only ask,” Qui-Gon said, “and while I would not advise it, as it might put the Oplaoans on edge, I think given the circumstances it would be understandable.”

 

They set up and sent off a return transmission, and soon the Oplaoan delegation was outside their shuttle once more, waiting patiently for the ramp to descend. President Corysh and Representative Nych looked relieved to see the humans all safe and unharmed, and apologized multiple times.

 

“Elder Gardem has been taken into custody as well,” President Corysh informed them, “as he was the one to signal the extremist group, it seems. He has been in contact with them for some time without our knowledge. He has been temporarily suspended from the Council of Elders until his trial is concluded.”

 

Getnor was particularly concerned that there might be more Oplaoans who opposed the Nobosian colonists than originally thought, but Corysh assured her that was untrue. As a society they had been gearing up to make first contact for decades, held back only by the advice of their elders, and many studies and surveys had been conducted over the years on the population’s view of such an endeavor. Most Oplaoans were more than ready to join the galactic stage, and President Corysh told Qui-Gon and Getnor firmly that it was time.

 

“What better first act on the galactic stage than to provide assistance for those in need?” he asked, and Qui-Gon felt a surge of respect and affection for the being.

 

They helped walk the colonists and Oplaoans through the process of setting up a sovereign colony in an uninhabited corner of their world. The Oplaoans also wished to petition for entry into the Republic, and Qui-Gon put in the request for a guide; there were a lot of steps involved in that process, many of which were designed to protect the petitioning world. It helped their case immensely that they were providing a home for the Nobosians.

 

Finally, finally, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were done. The Nobosians escorted them back to a travel hub at the nearest hyperspace lanes, from where they obtained transport back to Coruscant. Once again they were back in Republic space and heading home.

 

As Jedi, they still had to comport themselves appropriately on their long journey home. Obi-Wan stood a little closer than he was used to, though, and bumped up against Qui-Gon when Qui-Gon was tired or irritated. And to Qui-Gon’s immense pleasure, as often as was possible Obi-Wan held his hand.

 

“Mine,” he murmured in Qui-Gon’s ear, and Qui-Gon settled back into his seat and closed his eyes with a content smile.


End file.
